More navel-gazing: on the subject of conflict
July 23, 2007Anyone who has ever seen me take a position and defend it will probably tell you that I don’t do it very often, but I am utterly ruthless when I do. Not uncivilized (no punches thrown, no bottles broken), but I will use every trick in a rather extensive repertoire to get my way if I think it’s important and right. I recognize the truth of this, but I also know something that most people don’t: I hate conflict. Hate, hate, hate it. A pitched battle, no matter how honorably conducted, will invariably result in a physical reaction, usually a panic attack a day or two later; at the very least, a headache and general malaise.
So how to reconcile these two opposing truths? Maybe it’s terribly obvious to the analytical INTJs of this world, but it’s only recently become clear to me…
I tend to avoid argument in general and debate in particular; it seems pointless. Most people already know what they think about “subject x” (or are content in their ignorance) and are simply not going to change their minds in response to anything I have to say. A rational exchange of ideas is interesting in theory, but I’ve rarely seen it work in real life. So why waste the energy? I have enough to worry about, and generally do what I want to, anyway.
But every now and then a situation develops that I can’t ignore and remain content with myself. It has to be very important to begin with, which is emotionally wrenching, and so by the time comes to engage, I have had to work myself up to this thing I dread. It’s exhausting, it’s terrifying, and more than anything else, I want it to be over and done with. Finished.
Hence the scorched earth tactics I tend to employ – and I don’t mean yelling and screaming. I mean manipulating, cajoling, threatening, writing letters, going over people’s heads: whatever will work well and permanently. I learned the fine art of calculated escalation by watching my mother; she is the most charmingly inexorable opponent who ever left someone wondering what just happened. This is just one of the weapons in the arsenal…
So there it is. The solution to the paradox.
If I utterly destroy my enemy, I won’t have to fight them again.
girl, who are you fighting with? glad to see you posting again. I was missing you. Thanks for the ESVM, too–that was uplifting.
As an INTJ, I must say that the style of battle you employ is not my own cup of tea (because I refuse to believe, despite all available evidence, that it is not possible to rationally persuade my opponent to see things my way), but your analysis of your own style makes perfect sense, and manipulating, cajoling, writing letters, and going over people’s heads are all tactics I can respect. Just try not to burn down your own house while you’re scorching the earth, okay? Or, you know, mine. This summer’s been scorching enough for many of us. Try to aim your destructive powers at very precise and truly deserving targets–think laser, not carpet bomb, and remember that lasers can heal as well as destroy, if aimed carefully enough.
And you REALLY need to watch Buffy TVS season 6–in season 6, Willow starts developing her powers as a witch, they go to her head, and then a personal trauma makes her totally lose control and start destroying everything in her path. But she does get saved from herself in the season finale, and in season 7 she starts learning to get control of her powers and use them for good. She really is quite an appropriate alter ego for you.
If you have not already done so, go take a look at Dave Barry’s article, How To Argue: http://www.mindspring.com/~mfpatton/argue.htm
Some useful information here, except that the last one seems to get over-used a bit.
Oh, I AM a laser. A laser with nuclear warhead urges, but a laser nonetheless. I think that’s why it scares the hell out of people when I fire.
It’s taken far too much effort to get here, and I love this place far too much to lay waste to the countryside. I am a careful chooser of battles, when I can choose. When I can’t, I aim very carefully. Tracking systems are a major component of the arsenal.
Oh, you ARE Willow!